


the taste that your lips allow

by sirensongs (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, hurt!harry, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sirensongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants someone he’s sure he shouldn’t. Someone he’s sure he can’t have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the taste that your lips allow

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like this! (I did originally post to my tumblr, senseandstylinson, just posting that so I'm not accused of stealing. :D)  
> and you can check me out on tumblr at http://sugarandstyles.tumblr.com ♡

“I’ll be back in a bit, Harry,” Louis seemed worried. He tilted his head when he picked his keys up off the counter. “You all right?”

“Mhm,” Harry grumbled from the couch, working to hide the bottle from Louis.

The older brunette nodded slowly, his eyes falling from Harry to the floor, before he left the flat.

-o-

Have you ever experienced a moment where it felt like your heart and stomach were wrestling around? Like you had some sort of aching pain and emptiness in your chest and it was just getting worse as you tried to identify it? A moment where your brain felt total disconnect from your feelings and there was no way to know why?

Harry Styles was in a perpetual fleeing of happiness, no matter where he turned or what he did or said there was no such thing as happiness. Everyone around him had seemed to harness it, to enjoy it and swim in a bubble of joy and smiles. Harry couldn’t help but drown in the wrong pool, the one with sadness and despair oozing over the edges.

It was identifiable, though, Harry just had fits of unknowingness. He knew it was one thing. One person. Louis.

He didn’t love Harry the way Harry loved him. There were sparkles in Louis’ eyes. There were fireworks when their eyes met. Harry felt breathless and like he was at a loss for words, like everything slowed down and turned pink and fuzzy. Louis just saw it like it was, Harry knew, in real-time and real-colors with none of the love sick hallucinations.

Niall and Liam were the first to notice. Then Zayn. They’d slip little jokes into conversation to try and get Harry and Louis to react. They’d say and do things in interviews, they’d try anything they could.

It was no use. Harry didn’t want to say anything to Louis. He had Eleanor for Christ’s sake. It didn’t make a difference that she was a Modest Employee. Just because their relationship started off as a business deal didn’t mean it hadn’t evolved and progressed, right? Harry was sure Louis had feelings for Eleanor.

Even Harry had gone through a phase where, like Niall and Liam and Zayn, he believed it could work. He believed Louis could love him back. He started subtly, with very, very subtle hints.

Sweet Disposition. Harry and Louis’ song as far as Harry was concerned. They’d listened to it numerous times while sharing a pair of earphones and dozing off in the car or on a plane. Getting a tattoo of the lyrics…A part of the lyrics so strongly connected to his feelings, so easily connected to Louis…

Louis didn’t take notice.

Then Harry, desperate, even got a tattoo of the stupid scribblings Louis had made on his arm. He didn’t tell Louis exactly why, though he made it sound like a big joke and did say that he wanted to keep his best friend with him at all times. Really it was just the permanence. Louis writing on him, him making it so irrevocable and real.

Louis didn’t seem to take much notice to that, either. He just laughed about it and told Harry maybe one day he’d get one for him, too.

Harry had sank into depression numerous times before that but this was worse. The feelings he had while recording the second album were far more significant than when they recorded the first or even when they were on tour and Eleanor would make staged appearances.

Alcohol seemed to do such wonders for Harry. A drink could substitute for the taste of Louis’ lips, or what he’d imagined anyway. A splash against his own lips would be substantial enough to go without Louis’. He’d sink into a couch or his bed and become submerged in the drink. His blood would drown, his eyes shutting and the feelings seemed to go away and he became something numb.

Louis didn’t know why Harry was acting like this, and he wouldn’t, as Harry decided. Because no matter what, Louis didn’t want Harry. He wasn’t going to force him to, either. So he’d just keep on with the common idea that the fame was getting to him. Yeah, that was it.

-o-

“Is there any way I can get ya to talk to me, mate?” Niall’s eyes seemed to droop, but Harry wasn’t sure if that was because of the alcohol or not.

Harry sat up in his bed, the darkness was comforting. He had the curtains drawn almost 24/7 now, and he didn’t plan on letting the light in anytime soon. “I don’t need to talk, Nialler.” He hoped his words came out as clearly as he intended them.

Niall frowned, the blue in his pupils begging Harry, the way they were so round and innocently concerned. “Harry…”

“Niall,” Harry slurred. “What exactly are you even doing here?”

There were a few moments of silence as Niall looked down at the floor, wiping tears away. He sat down next to Harry on the bed and his lips shook when he finally found the words. “We’re all worried is all. You haven’t been yourself at all. Somethin’s wrong, isn’t it? But you don’t wanna talk about it? I understand ya, Harry. I getcha. But you can’t keep it bottled up, you just can’t.”

Harry brought his hands to his face and pushed away his hair before massaging his temples. “Damnit, Niall.”

Niall didn’t give up, not like Harry wished he would. “Harry, please. Please, Harry!” His eyes were wet again. “Just talk to me, Harry. I won’t even tell the others, just let me know what’s wrong. If I can help I want to know!”

Harry felt the alcohol working its magic as words began to flow from his mouth and then he heard them a few seconds later. Niall’s eyes were moving along with Harry’s words, whenever they were occurring. Harry knew words he never wished to utter were escaping him.

“It’s something the matter with me,” Harry whispered.

“Are you sick?” Niall raised a brow. “We can go the doctor, Harry.”

“No,” Harry slowly began, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shut tight, he was redfaced and miserable looking. “It’s a sickness, yeah, maybe. No, no it’s not, it’s that I’m gay, Niall.”

Niall’s eyes widened and Harry couldn’t see them but he could feel their judgment, he was sure Niall didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Niall instead leaned in and hugged him, placing his head on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry didn’t know how to react so he just slowly patted Niall’s back.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of that, Harry,” Niall finally said as he pulled from the hug. “You’re unique and that’s good. You’re beating yourself up over this, Harry? You’re better than that. You know we all still love you—” When Harry’s eyes widened Niall realized he’s said something wrong. “Not that they’ll know. Nobody will know if you don’t want them to, Harry. I won’t tell a soul. I just mean that they wouldn’t care if you did tell them. You’re like our brother.”

Harry didn’t want to hear those last few words because he knew Niall was lumping One Direction together as brothers and Harry couldn’t bear the thought of being like a brother with Louis.

There was so much more Harry needed to tell Niall. Should he? He was already halfway there, there was no turning back, and so the buzz in Harry’s brain once again took over.

“I’m not upset about that, Niall..” He wanted to beat himself senseless. “I love Louis…”

Just like that he’d given it all up. All the months of secrecy and commitment to himself was gone.

-o-

Harry wanted to feel the hot water sliding down his body. From the nozzle onto his hair and dripping from each chocolate brown strand down his neck and shoulders, down his chest, stomach, and legs. He wanted to escape, to gasp for air as the warmth overcame him.

There was nothing to save him, nobody to fix what he’d done. He was such a fuck up. There went alcohol. Just like that he’d given it up. In one day. People say it’s impossible, people say you can’t just give up drinking like that, but Harry did. Because love is a lot stronger than a few drinks and there was no way he’d be drunk enough to tell Louis to his face any of the things he told Niall.

He prayed, hopeful and yet feeling dumbly naive. Would Niall say anything? To Liam, sure. Harry was almost positive that Niall would mention the conversation to Liam. He should’ve expected that when he was talking to him, if only he hadn’t been drinking so much. If only his head wasn’t too heavy to form a thought, if only he could have seen in a straight line.

There was a tune playing in the background when Harry stepped in the shower, and his iPod had switched over to a different song as he slipped soap over himself, as he stood there with his hands pressed up against the wall and the water just slapped against his head and dripped over his closed eyes.

Harry found peace in showers, he found more peace in Louis’ smile, though. He could just picture it, so sweet. He could almost taste Louis. He imagined that his lips tasted like strawberries—no, better, cherries! The scent seemed to originate around him in the steam of the shower, and the water which drizzled over his lips became cherry flavored, he could poke out his tongue and taste what he imagined to be Louis.

A few moments floated along, Harry just stood there wishing Louis would burst in the door and join him for a shower. He just wished he didn’t have to wake up alone anymore, he wished he wouldn’t feel any more pain. He wished he’d never have to let Louis go again, that he could hold him tight in his arms. Louis was so soft, whether in a tight t-shirt or a sweater, just something about him was so soft.

All Harry could focus on was the taste, the taste Louis’ lips would present, the taste of his skin as he would kiss it. But he had to drown in the negative thoughts while he realized he couldn’t ever know the taste. He couldn’t ever feel the warmth of Louis beneath or atop him in the ways he wanted. He’d never feel their heartbeats together.

Harry pushed up against the wall of the shower, turning around and sinking down into the corner. He sat there, tears streaming over his gritted teeth while water rushed over him. He tried to stay quiet, knowing Louis was just out in the living room.

Maybe.

He might’ve gone to be with Eleanor. That only caused Harry’s eyes to burn more and he felt more tears sting against his vision. He buried his head between his knees and pulled at his hair. There were no words he could say, there were no thoughts that could calm him, he just needed to have his cry.

He needed to get the pain out for good.

But that just wouldn’t happen with a cry. He knew that.

-o-

Harry watched Louis hungrily over the kitchen table. He was eating some cereal while Harry just sat there reading the paper, though, of course, he wasn’t really reading it all. His eyes must’ve looked swollen after all the crying he’d done. He was dressed simply in a t-shirt and jeans, he had no time for effort. He wanted to impress one person only and that person wouldn’t be impressed, so there was absolutely no use.

“What are you doing today?” Louis asked, slurping some of the milk from his bowl before standing and moving to the sink.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. He hated that Louis asked what he was doing. To Harry that sort of implied that they’d be doing separate things, which he didn’t want to think of.

Louis turned the sink on and rinsed out his bowl, feeling around under the sink for the latch where the dishwasher was. As he pulled it open and placed his bowl perfectly in the spot where he always did, he folded his arms. “I’m off to see a movie with Eleanor. Probably Spiderman.”

Spiderman was Harry’s favorite superhero, Louis must’ve known that by then. Harry didn’t want to focus on that, though. Not only was Louis going with Eleanor to see the movie they should’ve been seeing together, he was leaving Harry alone in the flat.

“When?” Harry tried to sound as perky as possible but he had a feeling there was a dullness to his voice.

“Hour or so,” Louis grabbed his phone from the table and slid it unlocked. “Yeah, I guess I should be leaving about… Five minutes ago.” He gave Harry a cheeky grin and then it fell quicker than any of Louis’ smiles ever had before.

“What is it, Harry?” Louis placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry wished he hadn’t. He was just helping Harry to find signs in places where they didn’t exist. Helping Harry to hope and wish again, that each touch meant more than it did.

Harry shrugged, “Tired.”

Louis’ lips fell apart like he was about to say something, like he was searching for words. Even his eyes were fixed on Harry in a pointed way. He just nodded slowly, pressing his lips into each other. “Okay, I’ll be back tonight I guess…”

When Louis left Harry felt his heart drop from its fixed point in his heart. When that door closed and Louis was off to see Eleanor, Harry just stood up and made his way over to the liquor cabinet. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted. Did he want to feel numb? Or did he want a permanent escape? He figured whatever happened, happened. He didn’t want to think about waking up, or not waking up, he just wanted to sift his blood into alcohol.

-o-

“Loueh,” Harry slurred into the phone, his left hand barely held the phone to his head while his right hand clutched a bottle of whiskey, he was pacing around the flat. There was a set of large glass doors leading from the living room to the balcony and so he stared at himself in the reflection, though he could hardly see anything anymore.

Louis was with Eleanor. He wasn’t paying attention to Harry on the other end. It was eleven at night, Harry thought Louis would be there by then. He shouted something into the phone. “You fucking twat,” Harry cried, tears tracing his cheeks.

He couldn’t understand what Louis was saying anyway, he couldn’t understand anything. He just wanted to cry more, he just wanted to drink every last ounce of pain away from him. Harry cried out again, something even he couldn’t understand.

Finally, in a fit of rage and confusion after Louis kept saying random things back to him that he couldn’t understand, threw the bottle across the room. The crash was loud and inescapable. The smell burst through the room and Louis was shouting on the other end of the phone, but Harry was only sobbing.

“I’m coming, Harry!” Louis’ voice shook, trembled. He was scared. Through the blurriness that Harry was experiencing that was the only line that wasn’t inaudible. The only line that struck the strings in Harry’s chest. He was scaring Louis. He didn’t want to. He shouted at himself, throwing his phone across the room as well before falling over onto the floor and clawing at the carpet.

-o-

The next thing Harry could remember was Louis standing over him in the shower, his eyes shot and wet. There were tears all over his face, but he was also soaking from the water in the shower. Harry snapped to, the water was freezing and bombarding him while Louis’ teeth chattered and his hands shook against Harry’s shoulders.

“Harry!” Louis sobbed. “Harry!”

“Louis?” Harry mumbled, his eyes were slowly opening and closing over and over again. He finally pulled the strength to keep them wide open, which allowed him to notice the extent of Louis’ frustration and pain.

“Harry,” Louis cried, letting go of Harry’s shoulders, but only long enough for him to crawl closer and place his face between Harry’s head and shoulder. He didn’t want to let go, at least that’s what Harry observed.

They were just sitting there, the water running over their wet, clothed bodies. Harry could feel Louis’ heartbeat just like he’d wanted, and he could feel the softness of Louis’ skin that he loved so much. Though it was different, because he didn’t enjoy this as much as he’d have liked. Louis’ sobs stung his heart, with each heave and whimper Harry felt a needle push through his heart and pull back through.

“I’m sorry,” Harry finally mumbled, trying to muster up the strength to wrap his arms around Louis. When he finally did, Louis pulled away. He gave Harry a pained look, as if he didn’t know what to say anymore.

“How are you feeling right now?” Louis sniffed. “I was just going to call the hospital if you didn’t come around,” it seemed the very idea upset Louis quite a lot because his lips broke apart and his eyes let loose a world of tears once more. “You had me so worried.”

Harry didn’t say anything. There was so much he wanted to say, there were so many things he wanted to say but he couldn’t pick which was more important and then it was too late, Louis was talking again through sobs.

“I can’t believe it’s all my fault,” Louis said.

This caused Harry to stiffen up, to find some strength from nowhere as his heart beat like a hummingbird’s. He felt his bottom lip descend. “What? Louis what do you mean it’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been so stupid, Harry.” Louis reached up and turned off the shower, so that the water only dripped a few times, slowly, yet didn’t flow and drench them further. “I should’ve noticed the way you felt about me.”

Harry muttered to himself, only it was loud enough for Louis to hear: “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Louis said slowly, his eyes wandering around the bathroom.

“How did you find out…?” Harry didn’t want to know and yet he did more than anything.

Louis frowned, “You told me on the phone—Well, you sort of let it slip when you were yelling at me…yelling for me. Don’t you remember?”

“No,” Harry admitted. “Shit, I’m sorry, Louis…” He was surprised Louis was even sticking around, if he was honest.

“Don’t be sorry, Harry,” Louis asserted. “It’s all my fault, Harry. I should’ve known, I should’ve paid attention. It all makes sense now. I was just too afraid, I was just too insecure and afraid to see.”

“Insecure and afraid?”

Before Harry could get a spoken answer, Louis’ hands were against his chest and his lips were pressed firmly against Harry’s. They opened slowly and their tongues massaged each other for a few seconds before they broke apart and stared into each other’s eyes.

Harry didn’t know what to say at all. It was a dream come true. It was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he thought would make him happy, but without an explanation he was still terribly confused. He didn’t know what was going on, but he did like it.

Louis’ lips met his once more and then he pulled away quickly. “I’ve wanted to do that forever,” Louis gushed. “I am so sorry, Haz. If I’d have known before… If I’d just paid attention.” He frowned to himself.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said with a half grin while he kept his eyes locked on Louis and pulled his face in for another kiss.

There were plenty of things going through Harry’s mind. Plenty of ideas and plenty of questions, there was a thorough amount of talking to do with Louis, there were just so many details to sort through. The one thing Harry was absolutely sure of, though, was that the blanket of sadness had instantaneously been lifted off of him. Just like that! All of the depression and anxiety, all of the hurt, it was no longer weighing him down. Not forgotten or erased but removed, in an odd sensation unlike anything Harry knew.

The melancholy was gone, it had all disappeared with the taste that Louis’ lips allowed. It was clear to Harry that with one thing he could do anything, that with one thing everything made sense and everything was good, that one thing was all Harry needed. The one thing Harry hoped he’d never have to live without again. The love that Louis gave him.


End file.
